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  • Writer's pictureApril

Journal August, 23

8:00 p.m.

On this most restless of nights, a deep disquiet has taken hold of my very essence. The oppressive weight of invisible eyes, I fear, watches from hidden quarters. In the dim recesses of this age-worn dwelling, nestled in the darkened forest, something intangible lurks.Though its gaze eludes me, I'm left pondering if it observes with eyes or is simply the embodiment of relentless, consuming darkness.


11:00 p.m.


How to calm my racing mind:

  • I must strive to still the rising tide of my trepidation.

  • I must muster hope that perhaps this presence bears no malevolence.

  • I must permit myself the solace of sleep.


August 24


4:00 AM

In an attempt to find some semblance of peace or perhaps to confront this ethereal watcher, I have committed my thoughts to parchment. A letter addressed to this shade has been penned, and with the rising of the sun, I shall venture into the forest and place it amidst the very shadows where I sense the lingering presence.



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